


Sharing Space

by Jemisard



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-05
Updated: 2011-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-17 15:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemisard/pseuds/Jemisard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Fischer job, Phillipa calls Arthur, worried about her Dad. So Arthur finds himself heading over to unravel Dom's problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing Space

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Daunt](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Daunt).



The caller id read “DCHouse”.

Of course, after so many years on the run, dealing with criminals and cut throats and businessmen, Arthur knew better than to trust a caller ID. Just because a call was made from a certain phone, it didn’t mean the person on the end was who you thought it should be.

He picked up the call, voice bland and neutral. “Speak.”

“Uncle Arthur?”

The knot in his chest unwound, his breath sighing out. “Hello, Pippa, how’s my favourite god daughter?”

“I’m okay, and so is James, but I think Dad isn’t very well and I didn’t know who else to call.” Her breath was a touch loud, voice heavy. “Dad always said that if anything is wrong and I can’t tell him, that I need to call you and tell you.”

Arthur nodded, putting in his bluetooth ear piece and slipping the phone in his pocket. “He’s right. You can tell me anything, Pip.” He grabbed a suit case, throwing it on the bed and grabbing clothes, packing quickly and efficiently. “What do you want to talk about? You said Dad wasn’t so good?”

“Yeah...” She trailed off.

Arthur waited for her to pick up again and kept packing. Hand gun, disassembled rifle, body armour, just in case.

“He looks tired all the time. And he says he’s okay, and James is little and thinks he’s telling the truth, but I’m not a baby and I know he’s not. He sleeps on the couch and he yawns all the time.” Her voice dropped. “And he yells at night sometimes and I wake up and he’s in the living room and being all quiet and sad. Like when Mommy died.”

His heart knotted in his chest. He had thought the business with the shade was over, that he’d resolved his guilt and his need to cling to her memory. “Pip, sweetheart, you did the right thing calling me.” She was too young to have to deal with her father’s emotional messes. Some days, Arthur felt like he wasn’t old enough to deal with Dom’s issues.

“I don’t know what to do, Uncle Arthur,” she said plaintively.

“You just keep loving Dad. You don’t have to do anything, okay? You told me, and now I’ll make sure it gets dealt with. You just keep being you and trust me.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “You promise?”

“Pinky promise, I’ll take care of everything.” He sat next to his half packed suitcase.

“Will I see you soon, Uncle Arthur?”

“Yeah, you will. I’ll come over as soon as I can. You get to bed now, okay, Pip?”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too. Night.” He disconnected the phone, looking to the rifle in his suitcase.

He took that out and locked it back away in the safe. The handgun would stay though. Safely packed between his grey suit and his underwear, next to his toiletries bag. Because there was no way he wasn’t going over there now.

Just now, he’d need to take the PASIV along for a completely different reason than security.

*~*~*

Arthur didn’t rush to get over to the Cobb house, so he arrived shortly after school got out. He watched surreptitiously from the street as the car pulled into the drive and Dom got out with the kids.

Phillipa was right. Dom was looking tired, despite the fact that a weight had clearly been lifted from him. He looked happy despite the weariness, he had lost a bit of the weight he’d been carrying and his step was lighter.

But his eyes had dark rings and his brow was furrowed. Arthur wasn’t sure what to make of it. He didn’t look haunted like he had with the shade, but he definitely wasn’t right.

He watched them head inside the house before he started the car again, pulling out and going around the block once before pulling up outside the house, parking under the tree and getting out his suitcase and the PASIV brief case.

He was barely up the path when the door opened and Phillipa came hurtling down the path, closely followed by James. “Uncle Arthur!”

The cases were dropped so he could catch Phillipa in his arms, sweeping James in when he got there. “I’ve missed you both so much.”

They smelt like sunshine and innocence in his arms. He had missed them, more than he’d realised.

“And me?”

He looked up. Dom was almost smiling, eyes bright in the sunlight.

“Did you miss me?”

“Mm... I don’t know,” Arthur said thoughtfully, prompting a gasp of indignation from Phillipa. “You didn’t miss Daddy?!”

James gaped at him. Phillipa looked outraged. Dom... Dom just kept standing there with a half smile.

“I missed your Dad as much as he missed me,” he told the kids. They both beamed and hugged him again before letting go.

“I doubt it,” Dom told him quietly, giving him a hand up. He took it, surprised when he was pulled into a tight hug.

Once, Dom had smelt of grief and gun oil. Now he just smelled of his kids as Arthur closed his eyes and let himself relax a bit into the hug. He was also warm, hands pressing heat through Arthur’s suit jacket and into his tense muscles.

“Are you staying long,” Dom asked quietly. “Or is it work?”

“Holiday. I don’t have anything lined up, so I can stay a while.” He let go when Dom finally did, stepping back and letting the older man keep his hands on his biceps, holding him there. “Dom?”

“I just-” He shook his head, letting Arthur go and scooping up James. “I’m glad you’re here, Arthur. Come inside, I’ll make up the guest room for you.”

Dom headed back inside with James. Phillipa stayed with Arthur, picking up the briefcase and pulling it along. “Uncle Arthur?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you here because I called?” She gave him a worried look.

“I thought about how long it had been since I was over and thought that I should come and visit. You still did the right thing calling me, Pip, I promise. I came by because I realised I should’ve come here sooner. I really missed you all.”

“Okay.” She ran off ahead with the case, to take it to the guestroom. Arthur followed behind and hoped that maybe he could keep the rest of his promise and fix up whatever was wrong.

Dom was putting sheets down when Arthur got there, the case sitting by the bed side table. James was helping to put a pillow into a case with limited success and Phillipa was bossing him about.

“Let me do it, Dom, You get the kids fed and settled.” He had a feeling they’d be all day and night if the kids kept helping. “Can I steal a shower?”

“I’ll do you one better and just let you have it,” Dom smiled. “Use the ensuite, the kid’s bathroom is a bit of a mess right now.”

He could imagine. Dom wasn’t the most organised person at times and cleaning would fall behind time with the kids. As it rightly should. “I will. Thanks.”

Dom shooed the kids out and into the rest of the house, leaving Arthur to unpack his clothing, hide away his gun where the kids couldn’t reach it and finish making up the bed. It was relaxing, to just go through normal, every day motions with the sound of the children playing with Dom down the hall, like nothing had ever gone wrong.

He stripped out of his suit, padding quietly down the hallway in shorts and a shirt, clean clothes under his arm.

The master bedroom had always been sacred ground before, since Mal’s death. It was the shrine of Dom’s grief and guilt, of the absence of a beloved wife and mother.

Not now. Now it was a room that Arthur remembered from years ago, open and light. The photographs on the wall were collections, not memorials. Mal’s jewellery was packed away from the dresser, waiting for when Pippa was old enough.

She wasn’t here. Her memory was, but she wasn’t. And that was a terrifying burden released from his shoulders. At least Dom wasn’t clinging any longer.

Having lingered long enough to be weird rather than just nosy, Arthur went into the ensuite for a shower to wake up and relax from his drive over.

*~*~*

He was probably a bit too long in the shower, failed to care and took his time shaving and dressing. By the time he stepped out into the living room, comfortably dressed down for the privacy of the house, dinner was cooking and the kids were drawing in front of the tv.

Dom did a double take as Arthur stepped into the kitchen. Arthur raised a querying eyebrow.

“Nothing. Just... I’d forgotten what casual you looked like,” Dom admitted, turning back to the pot he was cooking in.

“And what does casual me look like,” he teased.

“Mm... about fifteen,” Dom quipped back.

“Shut up,” he punched him in the shoulder. “I do not look that young.”

“You look like jailbait. People will wonder when I got a high schooler in to babysit my kids,” Dom laughed. “Ow, stop hitting me!”

Arthur thwacked him once more for good measure. “You’re a jerk.”

“You’re a jerk,” Dom retorted. “You’re the one hitting me.”

“You’re still a jerk,” he teased. “You haven’t said thank you.”

“I haven’t, have I?” He poked at the soup. “Thank you doesn’t seem to encompass it.”

“It’s a start.”

“It is. Thank you. So much. For everything you’ve done.” He didn’t look up, but Arthur didn’t really expect him to. Dom didn’t do eye contact when it mattered, like he was scared of what people might see in him.

Arthur nudged him softly. “You’re welcome. I know Mal would’ve wanted me to look after you.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, stirring the soup more.

“How are you, Dom?” He stayed relaxed and casual.

“I’m good. Still adjusting, but- I couldn’t be happier. I have my kids back, Arthur.” And those words light up Dom’s face in a way that makes the tired edge vanish. “I have my kids.”

And whatever it was that was bothering Dom, it couldn’t be anything too life shattering, because there was too much light in Dom’s expression to be brought down by a shade. Arthur smiled slightly. “Good. I’ve been worried.”

“Become a natural state for you?”

“Something like that,” he agreed. “Do you have coffee going?”

“No. I try not to have caffeine at night. There’s probably some ready for the morning, though, if you want. Otherwise, you can live off whatever’s in the fridge. Pip, set the table for four, please.”

Phillipa started setting the table while Arthur made himself a coffee to do with dinner. By the time it was done, Dom was serving up some kind of warm, thick soup for the family.

They gathered at the table, the children tucking into their food heartily, the two adults more reserved.

The space was filled with conversation. Pippa talked about her school, her friends and projects and a girl called Marjorie who was apparently horrible and had a stuck up nose like a pig. James was much quieter, but he agreed that playschool was fun and that he wanted to go back tomorrow to play with the big truck in the sand pit.

They cleaned up as a group, getting the dishwasher going and then settling down in the living room. The kids were colouring and drawing while Arthur and Dom watched the news and then flicked onto some inoffensive comedy show.

By eight, James was mostly asleep on the couch. Dom excused himself to get the boy changed and settled into bed, leaving Arthur stretched out in an arm chair and Phillipa sitting by the coffee table, colouring.

To his surprise, Phillipa started packing up her crayons. “Are you going to watch tv instead, Pippa?”

“No. James sleeps better with me there. So I stay with him. Daddy said you always sleep better with someone you love with you.”

“Well, he’s right. It helps a lot.” He sat up to watch her pack up.

“I thought he was.” She nodded and put away her little case of art supplies. “So I should get ready for bed too. I can read when James sleeps.”

“Okay.” He leaned forwards for a hug. “Sleep well.”

“You too.” She trotted off to get ready for bed.

Arthur sat, not really thinking and just enjoying the quiet until Dom came back with two cups of fruit tea. “Kids are in bed.”

“Pippa staying with James is very good of her. Not many girls her age willing to be little brother’s teddy bear.” He took a cup, nursing it in his hands.

“She’s a good kid. They both are.” Dom looked up finally. “Arthur... look, I’m glad you’re here, but I get the feeling there’s more to it than just a friendly visit.”

“I knew there was a reason you were an extractor,” he quipped.

“So don’t make me extract it from you. What’s going on and how serious is it?” He leaned his elbows on his knees, watching Arthur intently.

“Not serious how you think. I was just worried, Dom. Phillipa called, we talked a while, she said she missed me. So I came to visit.” which was all true.

Dom kept looking at him. He knew he was reading for tells, twitches, but he knew what his own give aways were.

“I’ve missed you all. A lot.”

It shocked him how true that admission was. But the honesty of it settled Dom, who gave a half smile and sipped his tea. “We missed you too.”

“We?”

“I missed you. It’s been strange, not having you there all the time.”

Not having someone to share with all the time. Not knowing there was someone there at your back all the time. “You look tired, Dom,” he said softly. “Are you sleeping?”

“I’m sleeping.” He looked at his wrists, the tiny marks of PASIV use gone. “The effects are wearing off. I haven’t used one since I came here.”

Arthur reached out, touching Dom’s inner wrist softly, then catching his hand. “Your ring.”

“I thought... it was time.” He drew his hand from Arthur’s, rubbing the tan line of paler skin. “She’s gone. I don’t love her any less, but she’s not here anymore. My kids need me here, not then.”

“Dom...”

He looked up and smiled. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have got here without you.”

“You’re welcome.” He drained his tea. “Now, do you have something stronger in the house? Like the rose I sent for when you got home?”

Dom chuckled and got up. “You grab the glasses, I’ll get the wine.”

*~*~*

Some time around one in the morning, Arthur slid into bed. He was pleasantly buzzing from the wine and feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. Bed was warm and comfortable, the chill taken off with an electric blanket that made him sink with a deep sigh.

There was a thud.

He was upright instantly, suddenly aware that he had been asleep. The noise had come from down the hall, from Dom’s room.

He was out of bed and in the hallway in a flash, grabbing a candlestick on the way and hefting it in his hand. His quiet caution was thrown though when the bedroom door opened and Dom staggered out, looking exhausted and rumpled and completely unharmed.

Their gazes met. Dom looked to the candlestick. Arthur sheepishly set it back on the hall table.

“Really? A candlestick?”

“I’m still drunk, leave me alone. I thought you were in danger.” He deflated and suddenly it clicked. “You’re having nightmares.”

“Stop using the PASIV. Eventually, your body starts the remember how to dream.”

And everything you had put your mind through started to catch up with you. “Christ. No wonder you’re tired. Are you getting any real sleep? Are you going back to sleep tonight?”

“... Maybe.”

The look away, the words, it was Dom for ‘No more sleep, but I don’t want to alert you to that, because I’m a dumb prig sometimes’ and Arthur needed to spend less time working with Eames if he was using the word prig in his own head.

“Go back to bed, Arthur.”

“No, I’ll stay up with you. It’s fine.” He yawned into his hand. “Just let me grab a shirt.”

“Really. Go back to bed.” Dom pulled his robe around him tighter.

“Go and get the kettle going.” Arthur pushed him. “I’ll be out soon.”

He watched Dom go and then went to find something to wear. His own clothes weren’t that warm, not for the situation, so instead he stole a blanket from the linen cupboard and curled up on the couch, taking the coffee when it was offered to him. “Thanks.”

“You don’t need to sit up with me. I promise, I’m a big boy.” Dom sat next to him heavily.

“But you’re used to me holding your hand, even when you won’t confide in me. Why should today be different?” He offered Dom to share the blanket for warmth. The older man hesitated and then slid in, huddling under the warmth.

“I- Christ. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you, Arthur. I couldn’t tell you.”

“But you could tell Ariadne.” He hated the slightly bitter note to his voice, but that had hurt.

“I didn’t have a choice but to tell her. She threatened to tell you everything she saw when she broke into my dreams if I didn’t explain to her. I had to.” Dom’s face was stony.

“And her telling me would’ve been awful?”

“You would’ve stopped the job.”

“You know that isn’t true. You think I don’t know how important your kids are? How much getting back would mean? Why do you think I was out there with you, for fun and games? Everything had been about getting you back here.”

“I didn’t want you to know about Mal’s inception, okay?” Dom got up again, pacing. “I didn’t want to know how you’d react. I couldn’t let you know.” He re-belted his robe again.

“Dom... you didn’t know what it would do.” He wouldn’t say it wasn’t his fault. It was, but he had no idea of what would happen. “It was an accident.”

“I couldn’t risk it.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t.”

“Didn’t you trust me, Dom? Trust our friendship a bit more than that?”

“You don’t understand,” Dom snapped. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Oh no, you don’t.” He was over the couch and grabbing Dom’s wrist before he thought about it. “Of course I don’t understand, you never tell me anything that matters!”

“Don’t yell, you’ll wake up the kids.” But he didn’t try to pull free of Arthur’s grip.

“I wouldn’t yell if you’d just tell me what’s going on for once, Dominic.” He had never heard himself spit that name with so much venom. “Why couldn’t you trust me? Us?”

“I couldn’t risk losing you,” Dom suddenly bit out. “You were all I had, how could you expect me to run the risk of losing you after losing everything else?”

He was silent a moment. It was a moment too long, before Dom pulled away again. “Good night, Arthur. Go back to bed.”

He was too drunk to deal with this. The wine was sitting heavy in his stomach. He was cold and feeling heavy headed.

“Daddy?”

He looked over to the open door. “No, Pippa, it’s me. Go back to bed, I was just getting some water.”

“Is Daddy okay? Or is he having nightmares again, like James?” She clung to the edge of the door.

“Daddy’s okay. So am I. Is James?”

“James always sleeps okay with me.” She yawned. “You should go sleep with Daddy. He might sleep better. Night, Uncle Arthur.”

“Night, Pip.” He shut the door as she wandered back inside, then made up his mind.

He went to Dom’s room, sliding inside and shutting the door.

“James?”

“No. Me.” He walked over in the dark, feeling the bedclothes and pulling them back.

“Arthur? What-?”

“Pippa pointed out that we always sleep better next to someone we love and trust.” He hopped in. “I’m tired, I’m drunk, I’m cold. I would like to get some sleep tonight. So lay down and try and rest, okay?”

He lay down, back to Dom and head on the pillow, pretending he wasn’t waiting breathlessly to see how the older man would react.

And definitely not sighing with relief when he felt Dom’s weight shift, so they lay back to back, spines pressed alongside each other.

“Night, Arthur,” Dom whispered.

“Go to sleep, Dom,” Arthur murmured back.

To everyone’s amazement, Dom did. Right through until morning.


End file.
